Read Online Warrior Poet by Timothy J. Stoner - Free Book Online Page A

noticed Ginath’s entrance. Ginath took the lamp to the fireplace at the opposite wall, where another window also stood open, and lit it from one of the embers. He set it on the table near the center of the room and hurried toward Samuel. The Ethiopian had a sense about these things. He knew where all this pondering about disobedient children would lead. This morning, it came sooner than expected. Samuel halted his pacing and pressed his palm over his mouth to stifle a sob. Ginath caught the prophet as his knees buckled and he began toppling to the stone floor.
    “Why, O Lord? Why?” Samuel moaned.
    Ginath sat him down in the chair next to the fireplace. Samuel put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on both hands, staring at the glowing coals.
    “Lord of heaven and earth,” Samuel cried out suddenly, “why should I have lived to see this day? I warned Your people, and they did not listen. They would have a king, You gave them one, and so I anointed him to lead the nation.” He wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his tunic.
    Ginath placed several dry sticks on the embers and stirred them into flame.
    “They would not have You lead them; they wanted to be like the Gentile nations, so they rejected You and refused to have me serve as their judge. You raised up Saul from the tribe of Benjamin, one who was once small in his own eyes. But now—” Samuel’s voice choked.
    Ginath brought a cup of water from the jug in the corner. Samuel emptied it and handed it back.
    The Ethiopian set the cup near Samuel’s feet, pulled over a rug, and sat down. “Master?” he said, gently trying to get Samuel’s attention. The old man remained still.
    “Master?” he repeated. The prophet’s head turned, and his bushy eyebrows lifted slightly as he focused on Ginath. “Please tell me: What did King Saul do?”
    Samuel looked down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap, then lifted them to look out the open window in front of him. His eyes were red and vacant. His weeping had nearly exhausted him. Though worn out with sorrow, his voice was brusque.
    “More to the point,” he growled, “is what the Lord said.” He gathered his strength, then continued. “Before their last battle, I said to Saul, ‘Thus says the Lord God of Israel, “I have not forgotten what the Amalekites did in slaughtering My people when I brought them out of Egypt into the land of promise. Now, go and strike down Amalek, and put under the ban everything that he has.”’”
    He reached down for the water, but Ginath anticipated him. Samuel took two large swallows, then said, “Let me explain. When our nation was delivered from the hand of Pharaoh, we passed through the land of Amalek. Their raiders ambushed our stragglers—the women with small children struggling to keep up—and killed them all. It was to avenge their deaths that the Lord imposed the ban. Oxen, sheep, camels, and donkeys were to be destroyed, as well as every Amalekite—without exception.”
    Samuel looked steadily into the eyes of the Ethiopian, as if defying him to object. “I told Saul that the Lord had commanded the death of every living thing, including the king.” He handed Ginath the cup. “After the battle, the Lord told me that Saul had turned back from Him by refusing to obey His words. And such was the Lord’s grief that He regretted having appointed Saul king. When I arrived to confront Saul, he told me he had fulfilled the word of the Lord!” Samuel shoved loose strands of hair out of his eyes with an impatient hand as if trying to push away a distasteful memory.
    “That made me furious! The noise of thousands of animals was almost drowning out his words, yet here he was boasting about his obedience.” Samuel lifted his staff and shook it. “I wanted to club him with this; instead I demanded that he explain their presence. He said that the soldiers had killed most of the animals but had spared some as a sacrifice to God.”
    With Ginath’s help Samuel